


omnes vulnerant, postuma necat

by summerwoodsmoke



Category: Ars Paradoxica (Podcast)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Non-Linear Narrative, One-Sided Attraction, Season 2 spoilers, back at it again at krispy kreme, but i refuse to have a world with No Sallys Whatsoever, except its just sally. over and over again. because i enjoy pain ?, me chanting: Chet Kills People, ok real tags, so hence the tag! major character death, this fic is just the return of the tag:
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-13
Updated: 2017-05-13
Packaged: 2018-10-30 22:47:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10886505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/summerwoodsmoke/pseuds/summerwoodsmoke
Summary: "all the hours wound, but the last one kills"The only reason Chet lives a life in which he kills at all is because he crossed paths with Sally Grissom in 1943. Is it fair, or unfair, the number of times he kills the doctor herself?





	omnes vulnerant, postuma necat

**Author's Note:**

> this is, again, a direct result of conversation with leslie. everything is because of and for her. <3  
> this one is just a Lot less fun than _behind the eightball_ was
> 
> tuck in and enjoy the murder, folks!

In two timelines, Chet Whickman is the direct cause of Quentin Barlowe's death. In only one does he actually pull the trigger.  
  
By virtue of Bill Donovan, of the science of Sally Grissom, of the cruel irony of the universe, or of all of the above, the world resets itself. It gently takes the gun out of Chet Whickman's hand and lets a stray bullet take Quentin Barlowe's life instead, and June does the deed from there on out.  
  
Sheltering the golden boy of ODAR from death wasn't a practical thing for the universe to do. In all its possibilities, Chet takes life in one way or another, eventually. Most often, he does it many times, to too many lives. Whether it begins in Polvo or not has little significance on the outcome.

If Chet knew every timeline he lived, he might have a bone to pick with the universe. The only reason he lives a life in which he kills at all is because he crossed paths with Sally Grissom in 1943. Is it fair, or unfair, the number of times he kills the doctor herself?

 

* * *

 

In one world, Sally Grissom refuses to work with ODAR after they refuse to tell her where Anthony Partridge is, and goes on the run. ODAR spends the next decade hunting Sally down only for her to escape into the past using a Timepiece.  
  
In the next world, the same thing has happened. Partridge is gone and Sally doesn't know why, so she leaves. She receives help in the form of notes sent by a guardian angel keeping to the shadows. When Chet figures it out, he thinks of Bill and his tapes with worry.  
  
Although, he doesn't figure it out until after he kills Sally Grissom, so he doesn't have much to worry about, does he?  
  
The original Sally escapes again, to another world, determined to get there early enough to stop herself from ever running in the first place. If any Chet Whickman ever has to kill any Sally Grissom ever again, that would be on her.

 

* * *

 

Even down on one knee, coughing up a lung, Sally Grissom is the most defiant woman Chet has ever seen.  
  
"Do it." She looks up at him, and he's never seen her so cold. "Just like you'll have did to Partridge."  
  
Chet's hand tightens on his gun. "Partridge is alive, Sally."  
  
"I don't..." she pauses to cough again. "Believed you."  
  
"I know," Chet says sadly. He curves his finger to rest it on the trigger. He waits for her to stop coughing, for some reason. He waits until she looks up again and meets his eye, her hate-filled gaze scraping through his chest. He can't wait any longer; he pulls the trigger.

 

* * *

 

"So this is why she's in a coma." Chet's hands are shaking on his gun.  
  
"I didn't mean for that to happen," Sally, older Sally, a Sally Chet doesn't know, snaps. "I had us in a CAGE, it should've been...well, not this bad. I stayed too long." She sighs and stares at him. She seems way too calm in the face of a gun. He remembers when she thought she was being accused of murder, no weapons in sight, and was in an absolute frenzy. This Sally looks like she hardly blinks, her every move so filled with purpose.  
  
Chet adjusts the grip on his gun. "You know I have to, right?"  
  
Sally nods once. "Yeah, I know." A beat, then, "I'm glad it's you, at least," and Chet feels his knees liquefy. He has to fight to stay standing.  
  
"Can I ask you something first?"  
  
_That was a question right there,_ he half-expects her to say, but instead she simply nods.  
  
"What were we?"  
  
Sally looks him dead in the eye. "Enemies," she says matter-of-fact, then sardonically adds, "Why do you think I came back?"  
  
Every word that comes out of her mouth makes it harder and harder for him to imagine doing what he has to. But his body knows, even if his mind and heart don’t agree, and his shakes are gone. His breathing is steady and the slight uptick in saliva, like before you throw up, has begun like it always does. He can hear his heartbeat in his face, his chest, his hands.  
  
Sally looks at his gun. "Like I said, I'm glad it's you."

 

* * *

 

The first Chet to ever kill a Sally did so in December of 1945. In the small hours of the night of the Christmas party, Hank Cornish leads Chet to a room where Bill Donovan is waiting next to a bed.  
  
"She's an extra," his boss explains. "End it, then take it outside of the city limits to dispose of it."  
  
Tape 34 was received the same time as tapes 29-33. It detailed the likely aftermath of the Christmas party and how _not_ to dispose of the unneeded Sally Grissom. Almost a week after Christmas Day and Chet was still having a hard time listening to Bill like he should be, having a hard time concentrating on anything but Sally, if she was in the room.  
  
"I don't know how I didn't notice it before," Bill recorded for himself. "But Whickman's got it bad. It's almost laughable. Has he been carrying this flame since 1943? Surely not. Perhaps this was just the first time he ended a life, unneeded and extra though it was. Anyhow, get someone else to do the job. No one is quite as prompt as Whickman and I miss being able to use that. Going forward, I’d need him on my side."  
  
Nobody would ever call Bill Donovan a stupid man, but not many would call him smart, either.

He did take his own advice, and Chet doesn't kill Sally after the Christmas party ever again. Bill just does it himself.

Then, he wraps up the body and hands off the rest of the task to Whickman anyway.

 

* * *

 

“She’s got conviction, that’s clear.” Bill Donovan stalks down the halls of the Eldridge, Chet following a step behind. Despite himself, Chet is incredibly worried on behalf of the woman that had appeared out of thin air and vomited on him. And he may not know much about the Director, but he knows he isn’t a man to play around with. “She believes what she’s saying. Which means she’s either telling the truth, or tricked herself into believing it is. The perfect poker face. An essential skill for a spy.”

“How can we know? Uh—sir.” Chet scratches his neck nervously before dropping his hand.

“We can’t.” Bill stops and turns to face Chet. “That’s why you’re gonna get rid of her.”

“Uh...uh...yes, sir.”

“Say what you mean, son.”

Chet fights down a grimace. What he means is, _‘Get rid of her’? Are you out of your mind? You’re not my superior officer! And I’m not gonna kill someone, let alone_ her _!_

What he says is, “I don’t mean to question orders, sir.”

(It takes Chet a year or two to warm up to killing for Bill Donovan.)

 

* * *

 

In one world, Partridge warns Chet of the break-in at ODAR, and he and Carmen lie in wait for Sally and her crew of traitors. The situation deteriorates rapidly once Gaines pulls out his gun. The traitors scatter into the woods and the extra agents are called in to help hunt them down. 

Chet and Carmen find Sally, of all people. Of course.

Carmen steps up beside him as he lowers his gun.  
  
"It's over." She says it like a question, like she doubts her own words.  
  
"It is," he reassurs her, unable to look away from the growing blood stain on the ground. Sally has fallen on her side, so her jacket is soaked on one side, and her ponytail tip drags in the red. Her eyes are open. Wide open, deep brown, looking off at nothing in particular. Chet takes a step to the right, to get out of her line of sight. "Call Vico, let him know we need a cleanup crew here."  
  
"Of course."

_ODAR's hands are covered in blood,_ Sally had spat at him. _What good have you really done anybody, Whickman? Anybody at all? How has this organization lead to anything other than death and secrets and hurt?_  
  
Carmen's steps fade away and Chet still doesn’t move. His gun is still clenched in his hand. His eyes still flick over her body, the body, the viscous spreading blood, the soaking of her hair. The hand under her body rests in the pool, and he notices the palm and her fingers are entirely clean.  
  
Chet holsters his gun. The body needs to be moved, but his hands are clean and he isn’t a fan of the idea of them getting sticky-wet with blood. He'll wait for Carmen and the cleanup crew.

 

* * *

 

Chet knows better than to see who’s wrapped in the tarp he's been tasked with burying. He looks anyway, and immediately wishes he hadn't.  
  
Sally Grissom's cold, pale face, frozen in death, isn’t something that can be unseen.  
  
Chet's breath leaves his lungs in a shaky, sudden rush. _She's fine. She's in the hospital, but she's fine._ Chet hadn't been at the Christmas party, but he'd heard about it once he'd gotten back from DC. He'd gone to visit Sally just that morning. She’s fine. One version of her at least. Chet groans and runs his hands through his hair, hard against his scalp and pulling at the strands. He'd always said time travel was the best and worst thing to happen to him.  
  
Chet always works best when his hands are busy. Breath shaky, he leaves the body and grabs the shovel. He’s a good foot deep before his hands are steady, and it’s another foot deeper before breathing becomes difficult because of the exertion rather than the emotion.  
  
He has to climb out at one point, his mouth filling with saliva, to throw up a few feet away.  
  
Then, finally, he climbs out and fetches the body from the truck bed. He picks up the body, _her,_  gently, unable to keep her out of his thoughts, even with her face hidden. He jumps down into the hole and places her on the ground before climbing out again in a hurry.  
  
He probably stands there for a good ten minutes before he picks up the shovel again.  
  
As soon as he gets back to Polvo, he goes straight to the hospital, not to Bill's office like he'd been asked. He stands outside of Sally's room as long as he can, watching the rise and fall of her chest, her small sleep-twitches, the way the lamplight reflects off her hair.

**Author's Note:**

> another thing leslie did was [compare chet to jekyll/hyde](https://twitter.com/armitvgehux/status/862907824715837440), effectively killing me, so that was fun
> 
> thank you for reading! kudos and comments are very very appreciated 
> 
> come find me on [twitter](twitter.com/alinastarkovas) or on [tumblr](tanosoka.tumblr.com)!


End file.
